Success is not final, failure is not fatal: it is the courage to continue that counts.

I feel I am stuck in my memories. Longing for things that will never come. They have passed me by. I feel like I'm trying to carry water with open hands. I want to grab it, hold it, seize it, but it slips past me. I want more than what I have, but what I want isn't related to anything I currently have. I don't want better this, or more of that; I want new, untapped, unexplored.

I am so very tired. I go to bed exhausted, wake up exhausted, and go throughout the day tired. I feel like I'm trapped in a cycle of despondency.

I have many good things going for me, but I can't seem to get over these thoughts. I will be graduating with a masters degree in a few months. I have excelled at my education. I have friends that I interact with often and I have the freedom to experience new and exciting opportunities in my life.

I met her so very long ago; 28 years to be exact. We have experienced just about everything together. We have fought, cried, grieved, laughed, and loved each other for everyone one of those 28 years. I don't see her as often as I want and miss her more than I thought was possible. She is constantly moving and always appears to be living, maybe even a tad reckless, but she is experiencing life. I am jealous.

She has two songs that will forever be hers. She has always loved this piece of art and it was because of her that I heard this song. I have since grown to appreciate both "Starry, Starry Night" by Don McLean and the painting by Vincent Van Gogh. I remember sitting in her room and listening to this song for the first time. I saw a part of her that I rarely noticed before. I saw her heart.

I'll share her second song another day. I have to have some content for other posts. I can't use up everything in this one.

Let me tell you a story.

Truck: I know you have spent a lot of money on me recently, so I'm going to behave from here on out.

Tire: I'm not with him.

Nail: HEY GUYS!!!

Me: ??? seriously!!!

... 3 hours later ...

Me: I hate *breath* you all.

Truck: :(

Me: Ok, maybe not you.

Remembrances

Like many Generation X'ers my grandparents were hoarders born out of The Great Depression. There are stories about my fathers' parents and the clean up of their house after they moved out. We found paper plates from my first birthday (this was during the mid 90's so I was a teenager) sitting in a small stack with other gently worn paper plates. Each one was tenderly rinsed by my grandmother after their use. There were coffee cans of worn down pencils, no lead, dull point, used eraser. The amazing fact was, the house wasn't cluttered at all. It was almost spartan, yet full of these random items. Habits formed from a difficult decade, compounded by time.

My parents are hoarders. Sheds, paid for storage, and garages are a legacy handed down to me.

These thoughts about belongings stem from an e-mail from my sister. She is attempting to break the cycle of "collecting" and I applaud her effort. I have more than enough to furnish a small house by myself. It becomes ludicrous when you add a flatmate to the equation.

I mention this to say that I keep these things because of the memories they hold. Trophy's for the games and seasons I won and played. Clothes that no longer fit, haven't worn in years, but I may wear them sometime. Games/toys for my children (if/when that happens). Each item kept because of the memory.

I look at this now and see all that I have accumulated and wonder, "will I ever use this again?" Stuffed animals, soiled due to storage and age, won't ever be handed down. Gadgets that have had their batteries leak and corrode from the inside out. These items get tossed, left by the wayside so that I can fill it with something new or modern.

All this and my thoughts linger on this aspect. Many years down the road I will rummage through my belongings, going through them for some reason. I will stumble upon some item that brings up a memory and reminisce. I will be thankful that I kept that item and remember all the others that I cast away. Each item kept means that many more were lost. Are the items I am keeping the ones I value and cherish the most? What do I value the most? Is it something tangible like a picture of friends from high school or the continued relationship I have with them?

I know, at some point, I will look back and be thankful that I kept these items. They were the ones to make the cut year after year. This will be part of my legacy left to those that follow me. Are these items truly worth establishing as an heirloom? But, really, do Lego's ever go out of style?

Memory is a way of holding onto the things you love, the things you are, the things you never want to lose.

I find a good deal of logic in numbers. They give me a perspective, something I can refer back to and declare, "that happened." Today there are a few numbers that come to mind.

She would be 62 if she were alive today. She was only 45 when she passed away 17 years ago. She was only married for 16 years and it has been this long since I've seen her. I was only a little sprite at the age of 13. I have since lived over 1/2 my lifetime without her.

Each of these numbers mean something to me today. This is the sadness.

There are better numbers though. I shouldn't always focus on the negative.

67 is how old my step-mother is. I have known her for 13 years and she has been married to my father for 12 years.

I am blessed to have 2 wonderful women look after me, care for me, and love me. Some people don't even have 1. This is the gladness.

So many numbers, each one carrying memories, thoughts, and feelings.